LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

§^3p. - ©qpirigl^t 1^0 ^ 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 




'And. tho' tlie criiniblinj; oaks decay. 
Which by tlie wayside grow.'' 

Pase iv 



IIOM l^] M 10 LODI lOS 



HY 



/ 



A I.I' R I'. I) sI':r I':n{) ii u dson 



Ai/iiHiK (,i "llr.rniiv 1)1' .Si)i>iit;P(V, Mahh,' 






I I. L US I R A I I \) 



^3^ 






COPYRIGHT 1S90, 

BY 

ALFRED S. HUDSON. 



BOSTON: 
R. H. Blodgett Printer, 

30 BROMFIELD ST. 
1890. 



T O 1' 1 1 IC MEMORY 

OK 

MY BKO'I'UKR, 

JOHN P. HUDSON, 

WHO Diici) 
In lus Country's Service cUiiing tlie Civil W'a 



PREFACE. 

The selections contained in this vokime are, to an 

extent, relating to events and traditions pertaining to the 

history of Sudbury, Middlesex Co., Mass., the early home 

of the author, hence the title "Home Melodies." 

A. S. H. 



CONTENTS 



The Wayside Inn, 

The "Old Town Bridge," . 

The Phantom Tinker, 

The Defence of the Garrison, . 

Indian Rehcs at Cochituate Lake, 

The Pond hy the Meadow, 

The Gliost in the Garrison Door, 

The Home of Lydia Maria Child, 

Tlie Grave in the Woods. . 

Sheridan and the Slienandoah, . 

In the Twiliylit 'neath the Trees, 

Tlie Unfoi'gotten, 

in Memoriam, .... 



11 
16 
19 
22 
25 
30 
32 
36 
39 
42 
56 
58 
59 



ILLUSTRATIONS 



The Wayside lim, .... 


. Frontispiece. 


The Old Town Bridge, 


Opp. p. 1() 


The Haynes Garrison, .... 


" " 22 


The Pond by the Meadow, . 


" " 30 


The BroAvn Garrison, .... 


" " 32 


The Child Cottage, .... 


" " 3(5 


The Forest Grave, .... 


" " 39 


Twilight, 


" " 56 



3{ome 3/Cclodies. 



THE WAYSIDE INN. 



[The Wayside Inn (Howe Tavern), made famous by the poet LonRfellow, is 
in the smith-wt^sterly part of Sudbury. It was erected near the Ixj^inning ot 
the 18tb ciiitury, and ceased to be used as an Inualwut 18C6. The jilaco of late 
years has been considerably resorted to by pleasure parties and persons of an 
antiquary taste. The frontispiece is a pictun; of the Inn, copied from a pho- 
tograph.] 

By a winding' roud in early days 

An old-time tavern stood, 
With gable roof and low brown walls, 

A snns Inn of the wood. 



A red horse praneed npon the sign, 
The name of Howe was there ; 

And ''man and beast" in storm and shine 
Found there most ample fare. 

From massive chimneys, stout and. gray, 
The smoke wreaths curling crept 

Amid, the oaks that night and day 
Their faithful vigils kept. 



12 Home Melodies. 

The stage-coach passed aionj; the road, 

The post-horn rent the air; 
The teamster stopped his lieuvy k)ad 

To find refreshment there. 

But times have changed, and now the Inn 
Stands by the way-side lone, 

A souvenir of years gone hy. 
Of grandeur that has flown. 

The hmdlord and his guests are dead. 
They serve, are served no more ; 

The stage-coach now no more rolls by. 
The grass grows at the door. 

The paths by stranger feet are trod. 
The latch by strange hands pressed, 

The relic-hunter seeks the place 
That once was sought by guest. 

The hearth no longer brightly burns 
As burned that hearth of old ; 

The fires ai'e out, and embers gray 
Are on the ashes cold. 



T]i.e Waif side Inn. 13 

liy Jii^lit (he .sLonii-wiiid luoiuis and siL;lis 

A})(>iit, ili(! l()ii(> :il)0(li', 
As il" the [ghosts of long ago 

In wrathful fury strodo. 

On sunlit sIojjo of gahlc roof, 

From ridge to itneient eiives, 
The dust of long sinee buried ycjars, 

Slow gathered, dryly eleaves. 

lUit tho' thick mantled o'er with years, 

The Iini stands lone and sji,d, 
It yet recalls to mind a scene 

With [)leasant memories clad. 

It tells of g<jlden days gone by, 

Of sterling worth and cheer, 
Of merry times and merry men. 

And things that we revere. 

It says our worthy ancestry 

Were not of downcast mould, 
Tho' j)rayers and sermons long were said 

In meetinfj-house sf) cold. 



14 Home Melodies. 

They loved the English hostelry — 
They brought it to these shores, 

Its halls rang out with mirth and glee, 
They opened wide its dof)rs. 

About the fireside's fitful glow 
Of cheerful Inn they met. 

And talked on Fall and Winter nights, 
And days of snow and wet. 

Their harmless gossip meant no ill. 
They helped the cause they plead ; 

They learned to love each other more, 
And the land for which they bled. 

Long nia}^ this ancient mansion stand, 
Long may the old Inn last, 

As long as memory's golden chain 
Binds present to the past. 

Long may the honored name of Howe, 
" Mine host " of old, endure ; 

Long may the -poet's name be sung, 
Who made his fame secure. 



The Wayside Inn. 15 



And tho' the crumbling oaks decay, 
Which by the wayside grow, 

Yet may the Wayside Inn remain, 
Ohi times, old ways to show. 



16 Home Melodies. 



THE OLD TOWN BRIDGE. 



[A briilfje th;it crosses the Sudbury Kiver between Waylainl ami Suilbiiry Cen- 
tre, has long been known as the " Ohi Town Bridge." It is situated but a short 
distance from the late home of Lydia ISIaria Child. It is said that at tlie spot 
where the bridge stands, the first framed bridge in Middlesex Comity was erected. 
The vicinity aboiit is historic. The accompanying engraving is from a jihoto- 
graph by Mr. A. W. Cutting, Wayland.] 



In dislant years the pleasant beam 
Of sunlight dancing o'er the stream, 
Was not shut out by archway gray, 
Which upward bore a rough highway 
That onl}'^ served to bear the weight 
Of passing travellers and freight. 

The settlers came ; they spanned the stream 
With (^uaint old bridge of massive beam : 
And through the years that since have rolled 
A bridge has cast its shadow cold 
Fiiun bank to bank, where dark and slow 
The Musketahquid's* waters How. 

^ liidinn name of the Smlburv Kiver. 




" Above, ;in irlm and willow bc-iid 
With oiitsprcai! anus that aliiiost hleri'l ; ' 



l'a«c- 17. 



The Old Totvn Bridge. 17 

Above, the elm and willow bend 

With outstretched arms that almost blend; 

And by the river's slippery edge 

The blue joint, water brush and sedge 

Combine tlieir green of varied tinge, 

To give the stream an emerald fringe. 

Thus year by }'ear the bridge has stood 

And passed the traveller o'er the flood ; 

In storm and calm, by night and day. 

An open and a friendly way 

Has been alike to friejid and foe, 

To shield them from the waves below. 

Thou quaint old structure, we, like you. 
Should faithful serve, and strive to do 
The part allotted hour by hour, 
Tho' floods arise and tempests lower; 
Nor falter, tho' the work when done. 
By thoughtless crowd, be trod upon. 

And, as the stream of life rolls by. 
And year eternal draweth nigh. 



18 Home Melodies. 

May wo sweet consolation take, 

That life like ours has served to make 

An easy way for weary one 

To journey towards his heavenly home. 



The Phantom Tinker. 19 



THE PHANTOM TINKER. 



[There was long a tradition that a travoHing tinker once dwelt in the vicinity 
of tho Sudbury River Meadows, and that at length he disappL'ared, whereupon 
strange sounds were heard in the vicinity of his old hauntH. The sabstanco of 
the story is given in the following verses.] 



Tinkle, link, tiuk ; by tlie mcadow'B brink 
A sound comes soft and low ; 
Was it the note of a tiny bird 
The startled traveller faintly heard, 
Which in the thicket softly stirred ? 

Tinkle, tink, tink ; tinkle, tink, tink ; 

Once more the strange sounds go 

Over the rushes green and rank, 

Down 'mid the swam]) land, dark and dank, 

Beside the highway's brambly bank. 



20 Home Melodies. 

Tinkle, tink, tink : tink. tinkle, rink; 

Tlie tnivellev listens, and pauses to think : 

'Twas no voice of a bird 

That had suddenly stirred. 

Whioh the traveller there. atViighteil, had heard. 

But startleil. he shook to the roots of his hair. 
For the shade of the old phantom tinker was there. 
And the strokes of his hammer were borne on the air. 

And who was that invisible tinker so bold. 

Who, at midnight's still hour so dark and so cold. 

By that lone meadow pathway his vigils should hold? 

Lo, listen ; and learn from the country folk lore 
How, long, long ago, in the grim days of yore 
A tinker went jobbing tVom door to door. 

He plied his rude trade in a small, humble way. 
At each house making only a stop and go stay. 
Repeating his visit at no distant day. 

But, at length he was missed, and nobody knew 
Why he suddenly ceased their coai-se jobbing to do ; 
And the mvstorv thickened and gathered and irrew. 



The. Phantinn Tinker. 21 

Then, soon tlierc was hoard a low and strange sonnd 
By the highway that skirted the h)iie meadow ground, 
Which staith'd the whoh', ({iiiet country aroniid. 

It was tinhh% tink, tink ; now h)nd and tlien h)w ; 
Now near, then more distant the strange sound wouhl go; 
But the cause ol" it no one was able to show. 

If percliance for a season the strange sonnd shonkl stay, 
It would start, if sonic person about there should say, 
"The tinker is out of old coi)[)er to-day." 

At lenglh in ihe neighborhocKl somebody died 

On the route where the; linker his rude trade had plied. 

And then the sound ceased by (he lone meadow side. 

But as the funeral cortege to the graveyard slow sped, 
Grimly bearing" along the remains of the dead. 
The tinkle, tiidc, tink sounded clear, it is said. 

But from then until now no tinkle, liidc, tink 

Has been heard by the pathway of moist meadow brink, 

And it never was heard there, so some people think. 



22 Home Melodies. 



THE DEFENCE OF THE GARRISON. 



[Tl\»>ro stooil, noar tlic rivor incidowa in Siuibury wiitil recently, ii house 
called the "OKI H!iy\ics Oiirrison." When Philip of rokiinoket iiiviuicil the town, 
April 21st, 107(i, this gjirriaon was iissaiUul, !\s tho record states, "with (jreate 
force and fury;" yet, says the record, "by yo help of God, ye garrison" held 
out. Tho aeeonipanyiiii; eiijjraviug represents the house ns it was when deniol- 
ished some years since.] 



Dark and gvini the war-cloud rested 
O'ev tlie woodland lone and drear; 

On the night wind came the war-whoop 
Bursting on the startled ear. 

With the morning came the tempest. 
Shot and arrows tell like rain ; 

Sharp the onset, as the foemen 
Sought tho garrison to gain. 

Crowded tliiek within the stronghold 
Bravely fought the valiant band, 

Wlio for parents, wives and children 
Strove with willinij heart and hand. 





"Crowded thick within the stronghold, 
Bravely fought the valiant band." 



Page 22. 



The Defence of the Garrison. 23 

From above the distant woodland 
Rose the wreaths of murky smoke, 

While the wild incessant firing 
Far the forest echoes broke. 

Upward to the God of battles 

Looked they in that trying hour, 
Nor in vain their supplication 

For a Father's sheltering power. ' 

Nerved He then their arms with vigor, 

Courage gave to every heart ; 
Firm they stood and never wavered, 

No one failed to do his part. 

Slow the hours of morning vanished. 

Still the stern strife wildly raged ; 
Noontide came, yet still the conflict 

Round the old house fierce was waged. 

From the door the foe was driven 

Back to bramble, rock and wood. 
Inch by inch they slow retreated. 

Like a wall the English stood. 



24 Home Melodies. 

But at last the tempest ended, 

Back the war-cloud drew its shade, 

Soft o'er earth the gentle night dew 
Dropped, as day began to fade. 

Darkness reigned about the stronghold, 
But the foe had vanished quite : 

God had saved ! kind Heaven had rescued X 
And at eventide was lisht. 



Indian Relics at Coehituate Lahe. 25 



INDIAN RELICS AT COCHITUATE LAKE. 



[On the western shore of Lake Coehituate there might, until within a few 
years, be seen tlie faint outline of rude defences, that were probably erected by 
the Indians who lived in that vicinity long before English occupation. The place 
Is supposed to be the site of an Indian village of considerable size.] 

By a calm, forest lake, where the bright waters blue 
Reflect in their stillness the sky's azure hue, 
At a spot where the coarse and uneven turf 
Grows careless and rough on the time furrowed earth, 
Are the marks of a vanished race. 

Faint outlines of battlements old ma}' be traced, 
Which the hand of decay has not yet quite effaced ; 
These, with rude weapons and tools that are found, 
Are signs that the place was once populous ground. 
And the site of an ancient fort. 

But who raised the low mounds that were flattened with 

age. 
Long ere they had record on history's page ? 
The past gives no answer, none are left to declare ; 
All else time has taken, only these it could spare 
To tell about those who are gone. 



26 Home Melodies. 

But fancy, perhaps, by no venturesome flight, 
Can contemplate the scene and conjecture the sight 
That was there, when the deptli of the dark forest rung 
With shoutings and niirtli, from those dwelling among 
The now low mouldering mounds. 

On the bright, sunny highlands they erected their home ; 
Through the dark, leafy vales they delighted to roam; 
There they worshipped their Kiton* with rude sacrifice, 
And appeased their Hobbammocf by curious device, 
And were healed by the medicine men. 

In the swift, dashing tide of Cochituate Brook 
They thrust their stone spear and cast their bone hook. 
The forest resounded with echoing calls, 
As they took shad and salmon at the rough, rocky falls:): 
On the river's winding course. 

For them the deep shades of the old forest grand 
Gave out their supplies with beneficent hand ; 
The wild turkies strutted along the dark dells, 
Huge flocks of swift pigeons flew over the fells. 
And beaver swam in the streams. 

» Good Spirit. \ Evil Spirit. X Falls of Sudbury liiver at SaxonvUle. 



Indian Itdics at Cochituate Lake. 27 

Graceful grouse, with licrht step, stntely strode in the 
glen, 

Tlie wild ducks roared their young 'mid the weeds of the 

fen ; 
Rich gra])es in Large clusters sweet perfumed the air, 
And walnuts and chestnuts in plenty were there. 
And berries abundantly grew. 

When the late aster purpled in mild autumn days. 
And the golden rod flashed in the soft mellow haze, 
Tlien they hunted and danced by the harvest moon 

bright. 
And told their weird tales by the wigwam's faint light, 
Or sat by their council fires. 

By the pebbly shores of their forest-lined lake, 
By the leaf-covered inlet, fringed with flags and wild 
brake, 

Where the wide-spreading oaks their gnarled branches 
threw 

O'er the low rippling waves, when the summer winds 
blew. 

They paddled their fragile boats. 



28 Home 3Ielodies. 

In their rude forest fortress tlie}^ were safe from the liand 
Of the murd'rous Maqua* and his treacherous band ; 
In contentment and peace they raised the rich maize, 
And powwowed, and danced, and sang their rude hi5'^s, 
As silent the swift years passed. 

But noAv, crumbling, their lone mounds are left to decay, 
Their hearths are unmarked save by cold ashes gray ; 
Their names are unknown, and their graves are unwept, 
And over their history oblivion has swept 
Its all-effacing hand. 

But the calm lake and winds that sweep o'er it re- 
main ; 
The sunlight, the shadow, the snow and the rain, 
These still come and go as in days gone before ; 
But the race that was there is gone nevermore 
To be seen or known among men. 

So generations come and go, like waves that strike the 

sea-girt strand ; 
One centurj'^ they are here, and lo ! the next are swept 

from off the land ; 

♦ The Mohawk 



Indian Relics at Cochituate Lake. 29 

The very works they leave behind soon crumble, fall, 

and fade away, 
And like their makers pass from mind, and soon in dark 

oblivion lay. 

Great God, with Thee alone is that which still endures 

while ages fly ; 
To Thee alone can mortals look to give to them eternity. 



80 Ilovie Melodies. 



TllK POND BY THE MEADOW.* 

Bksipk the inoadow land it lies 

Placid and l)iii;ht, 
Reflecting soft the blue of snnimer skies, 

A poacet'id sight. 

U{)on its bosom lilies rest. 

Flags fringe its hank. 
And here and there the nuiskrat builds its nest 

In grasses rank. 

Along its shores the cattle graze, 

A quiet herd. 
And sweet in bush anil brake in summer (h\\« 

Is song of bird. 

At evening (ire-flies tlit aiul play 

Like fairies fair. 
And \vhii)-poor-\vills salute departing day 

With plaintive air. 

• Noar thi> Child Cott.Hge, W.Hjl.tml, 




"Along its shores tlie cattle graze, 
A quiet herd." 



Page 30. 



The Pond hy the Meadow. 81 

At morn the meadow odors rise 

Amid the fog, 
And booming bittern sounds its hollow cry 

From neighb'ring boj^r. 

Sweet scene of peace, of tranquil rest. 

Of holy calm, 
Where nature's children dwell and each is blest, 

Secure from harm. 



32 Home Melodies. 



THE GHOST IN THE GARRISON DOOR. 



[In tlie southerly part of Svidbtiry there stood, \mtil about a half century ago, 
an old house known as the "Brown Garris^m." In the picttire of this building 
the light left by the iwrtist upon the garrison do<.>r suggeste«l the following Terses.] 



Thou ghost in the garrison door. 

Oh. why dost thou stand and look out? 

Pray, tell us of things done of yore. 
Of midnight encounter and rout. 

Tell us how at the morn's early dawn, 
Ou that far-away, sad April day, 

The fierce foe attacked Sudbury town. 
Oh, relate to us these things, we pray. 

How, about the old garrison wall 
For houi"s the shot pelted like rain ; 

And the dark w;ir cloud drooped like a pall. 
As the foe sought an entrance to ijain. 




'• Tluni .i;h<ist in tlie ,t;ani>.on door, 

Oil, win' dost thou stand and look out ? " 



Paj^e 32. 



The Ghost in the Garriso7i Door. 33 

Speak, and tell of the " Fight at Green Hill ! " 
Where were buried the foe that were slain ? 

What lone forest grave do they fill ? 

Where through the long years have they lain? 

Tell us where the large wigwam did stand, 

That Philip erected in glee 
To carouse in with red-handed band, 

And exult in his great victory ? 

Tell the place of the night ambuscade. 
Where Netus was slain with his host ; 

Tell where the old chieftain was laid ; 
Oh, declare to us this, tiiou ohl (lliost! 

Tell, who built the old Garrison's wall, 

In the door of which now thou dost stand ; 

Break forth, and res[)ond to our call, 

Where rests now the long-vanished hand ? 

Tell us where upon rough Nobscot's side 

The home of old Tantamous stood ; 
Where did Jcthro the younger reside? 

In what sunny spot in the wood ? 



34 Home Melodies. 

Tell where Goodman's snug wigwam was made, 
On the hill which still goes by his name ; 

Where it stood in the dark forest shade 
When to Sudbury the Englishmen came. 

Thus open th}^ lips, thou old Ghost I 
No longer stand dumb at the door ; 

Tell of things that we wish to know most ; 
And be a mute spirit no more. 

But no: the departed speak not! 

The Ghost in the doorway is gone ; 
Removed is the house from the spot, 

The place is left lone and forlorn. 

The breezes still moan through the trees ; 

The clouds fly over the sky ; 
There, still, is the hum of the bees ; 

The waters are still gliding by ; 

But man and his home will decay, 
The roof-tree will fall by the wall, 

The ages will pass on their way. 
To come no more at our call. 



The Ghost in the Garrison Door. 36 

Then look to this spirit no more 

For tidings of what is long dead, 
For no ghost ever comes to tlie door 

When the life of a moj'tal has fled. 



36 Home 3IeIodies. 



THE HOME OF LYDIA MARIA CHILD. 



[The home of Lydia JIaria Child, during her later life, was in Wayland. 
There a large portion of her literary work was done, and at that place she died. 
The engraving of the house is from a photograph taken by A. "W. Cutting, Way- 
land.] 

On sunny bank that sloped beside 
The Musketahquid's meadows wide, 
The low-roofed cottace stood. 



Plain, unpretentious, kept with care, 
With garden decked with flowers rare, 
It smiled on passer-by. 

An elm and willow towered above 
With boughs that interlaced in love, 
As hearts entwined below. 

About the door the climbing vine 
Reached outward towards the soft sunshine 
That fell with erentle rav. 




'An elm and willow toweied above 
With bouglis that interlaced in luve.' 



Page 36. 



The Home of Lydia Maria Child. 37 

Not far away the lilies grew, 
With flowers of green and snowy hue, 
Along a placid lake. 

The blackbirds on the meadow near 
Made music sweet both loud and clear 
At break of early dawn. 

At sunset hour the shadows long 
Were mingled with their evening song, 
Till day's last fading ray. 

When Autumn decks the far-off hills, 
And purple haze the soft air fills. 
The scene how sweet, how fair. 

Soft clothed with gold and silver shades, 
The nearer landscape dims and fades 
On meadows broad and brown. 

While on the river's winding stream 
The silent waters faintly gleam 
With light subdued and soft. 



38 Home Melodies. 

Near by the orchard, bending low 
With many a richly laden bough, 
Gave fragrance of rich fruit. 

About the door the old folks sat 

At twilight hour for social chat, 

Like loving couple true. 

Their life was simple, quiet, kind. 
As blessed influence left behind, 
When they had passed a\vay. 

Dear spot, by pleasant memories blest 
Of earnest hearts that sweetly rest 
After life's arduous toil. 

A toil endured for souls distressed, 
For race afflicted and oppressed, 
When few would render aid. 




Above it was placed a rustic moiiiul. 
Beside it a broad, low stone." 

Pa};e 39. 



The Grave in the Woods. 39 



THE GRAVE IN THE WOODS. 



[Ill South Siuibury, there stood until 1852 a rude stone heap, at the head 
of which was a low slate stone. The grave thus marked for about a century and 
a half contained the remains of Captains Wadsworth and Brocklebank and more 
than a score of their men, who fell in the famous " Sudbury Fight," April 21st, 
1G7G. In l&sy a granite monument was erected, and the stone heap was removed.] 

In the dark, deep woods, where the murm'ring pines 

And tlie tall oaks cast their shade, 
'Mid the tangled boughs and the moss-grown rocks, 

A lonely grave was made. 

About it the scattering wild grass grew, 

And Autumn's leaves were cast, 
And notes of the wood-bird softly fell, 

As swift the years sped past. 

Above it was placed a rustic mound, 

Beside it a broad, low stone, 
Which told it was soldier dust that lay 

In that sepulchre still and lone; 



40 Home Melodies. 

That away from kindred the brave men fell, 
And perished their friends to save ; 

Then kindly borne were their prostrate forms 
To that lone forest grave. 

As the years rolled by, the old gray stones 

Together loosely clung, 
And on the pile the blackberry vines 

Their tangled masses flung. 

A softened stillness filled the air, 

No ruder sound was heard 
Than rustling leaf or cricket's chirp. 

Or note of singing bird. 

No beaten path by footsteps made 
E'er pressed the toughened sod ; 

The forest burial place was left 
With Nature and her God. 

The years of near two centuries passed ; 

The woodland dark was cleared ; 
In memory of that valiant band 

A granite shaft was reared. 



The G-rave in the Woods. 41 

But naught of granite, marble, bronze, 

Nor precious metal could 
More faithful serve, than that gray mound 

That stood within the wood. 



42 Home Melodies. 



SHERIDAN AND THE SHENANDOAH. 



I. 

In Shenandoah's quiet vales 

A conquering array sought repose ; 

A battle fought, a victory won, 
It bade defiance to its foes. 

II. 
Around about were comrades slain 

In struggle sharp, where blue and gray 
Crossed sword and sabre, shot and shell. 

Till both upon the green sward lay. 

III. 
A battle stern had just been fought. 

When rank of either had been thinned ; 
The surging war-wave dashed and broke, 

Till many a soldier's eye was dimmed. 



Sheridan a7id the Shenandoah. 43 



IV. 



And now, war's din and tumult ceased, 

The Shenandoah flowed ah)n(i- 
As calm and tranquil as the notes 

Float down the current of a song. 

V. 

The leader of that host had gone 
To Washington, with flush of pride, 

That conquering hero well might take. 
That conquering spirit scarce could hide. 

VI. 
For worthjr deeds had just been wrouglit 

By Sheridan and his brave men, 
Who headlong hurled the rebels back. 

And freed the Shenandoah acain. 



VII. 

And thus all thought the camp secure, 
As night its dusky curtains drew. 

And round each weary, war-worn form, 
A mantle soft it gently threw. 



44 Home Melodies. 

VIII. 

But hush ! the sound of rustling strange 
Is heard amid the brusli-wood thick ! 

And now and then to picket's ear 

Comes noise of crackling leaf and stick ! 

IX. 

And see ! along yon hillside rough, 
What spectral figures dimly glide, 

As if a dusky spirit-band 

From mortal vision sought to hide ? 

X. 

*' Who's there?" the sentinel shouts out. 
" Who's there ? " again he startled cries. 
But in the dark and disma] wood, 
His challenge only fades and dies. 

XI. 

Again he starts, he stops, he shouts, 
" Who's there ? advance and give the sign ! 
" Halt ! and if friend, pass on to camp ! 
"If foe, be thou a prisoner mine!" 



Sheridan and the Shenandoah. 45 

XII. 

Still all is hushed, no sound comes back, 
No voice is heard fi-oni bush or brake 

Of man, or bird, or beast, and naught 

Save what a slumbering world might make. 

XIII. 

Thus, as the night's slow vigils sped. 

The Union army lay at rest, 
As safe, it thought, as weary child 

When fondled on its mother's breast, 

XIV. 

But, fatal sleep to some who ne'er 

Exultingiy would wake to see 
Those conquering colors borne aloft, 

The signal of new victory. 

XV. 

For Jiibal Early's columns turned 
To flank that army wrapped in sleep, 

And snatch the laurels lately won 

By victory that he thought too cheap. 



46 Home Melodies. 

XVI. 

The night wore on — ere morning broke, 

What thunders rent the air ! 
What murderous fire ! what shouts ! what shrieks ! 

What treacherous foe was there? 

XVII. 

A thousand throats belch forth the cry 

Oft heard on Southern field ; 
A thousand men give quick reply, 

Who scorn to fl}'- or yield. 

XVIII. 

The combat opens with a crash. 

The forces headlong meet ; 
But Union host with leader lost 

Must suffer sad defeat. 

XIX. 

They reel, they fly, those men of might 
From front to rear make quick retreat. 

Vainly the bugles called to halt. 

Vainly the drummer the long roll beat. 



Sheridan and the Shenandoah. 47 

XX. 

Vainly were columns quickly formed 

And thrust upon tlie foe ; 
Vain were it then to stand or charge, 

Where ranks were soon laid low. 

XXI. 

No flesh could stand that withering fire, 

No nerve that flash of steel, 
No stalwart spirit stand unblanched 

And hear that murderous peal. 

XXII. 

Whole ranks went down, platoons were thinned, 

And prisoners by the score 
Were seized to be in prison penned, 

And see their homes no more. 

XXI II. 

Then came the rout, the quick retreat. 

The hope to find a shelter near. 
Fast flying feet of broken host 

Were swiftly hurrying to the rear. 



48 Home Melodies. 

XXIV. 

But stop ! behold at Winchester 

Was General Sheridan, 
The hero who that self-same field 

Had won with those same men. 

XXV. 

" What has been can be done again ! " 
Perhaps the chieftain cried, 
And quickly sprang he to his horse, 
And spurred his charger's side. 

XXVI. 

"Back, men!" he shouted; "Back!" he cried. 
" Return again to camp ! " 
Then rode he rushing on his ride, 
'Mid darkness dense and damp. 

XXVII. 

Forward he rode on foaming steed, 
His flashing sword he swung. 
" We'll whip them out their boots ! " he said, 
"And camp their camps among ! " 



Sheridan and the Shenandoah. 49 

XXVIII. 

Along the line with hero's pride, 

When once the front was gained, 
Brave Sheridan pursued his ride, 

Nor up his charger reined. 

XXIX. 

The men, encouraged, formed anew. 

Their chieftain then was there. 
From rank to rank the tidings flew. 

New life was everywhere. 

XXX. 

"Had I been here, this had not been!" 

Exclaimed the veteran brave. 
"Advance, my boys ! Bring back again 

The victory that I gave I " 

XXXI. 

All felt a fervor, as of touch 

Of mystic hand, or magic wand ; 
They turned to bring their laurels back. 

And meet the wish of leader fond. 



50 Home Melodies. 

Xxxii. 
The stragglers halt, fall in, re-form. 

In column close they line the way ; 
With measured, widening march they move 

To meet the foe now held at bay. 

XXXIII. 

And now a lull, as ere the wave 
In fury breaks upon the shore. 

Or storm-cloud rends the earth with hail. 
And bursts in air with deafening roar. 

XXXIV. 

So ceased the tumult, as that band 
Of veteran soldiers turned to meet 

That rebel corps, and take a stand 

With steel and lead their march to greet. 

XXXV. 

Both men and chieftain felt their strength ; 

A score of hard fought fights they knew, 
When hand to hand they sabres crossed, 

And fought the many with the few. 



Sheridan and the Shenandoah. 51 

XXXVI. 

Now comes the crash, the charge, the shock, 
As wave on wave smites sea-girt rock ; 

As billows make the frail boat rock, 
So tossed the banners of that front 
When steel met steel in l^attle's brunt. 

xxxvii. 
Lo ! at their head their chieftain leads, 
With followers firm on foaming steeds, 
Intent on none but mighty deeds. 

xxxviii. 
" Charge, men I Advance ! Retake those guns ! 
Bring back your comrades who 
Are held for prison pens, and wait 
To be released by you ! 

XXX IX. 

'' Let not those traitorous hosts invade 
Your fair, your northern fields. 
On them ! my l)oys in blue ! huzza ! 

Wlio hardest fights most joy in victory feels ! '* 



52 Home Melodies. 

XL. 

They knew the word, the work, the man, 
Phil Sheridan, their chief, was there! 

All Early's forces were as none, 

With leader who such deeds would dare. 

XLI. 

Clash! w^ent the sabres, whizz! the ball; 

The ring and sing of shot and shell 
Made mad the troopers, as if call 

Had issued from the mouth of hell. 

XLII. 

The}"" turn, the rebel legions break. 
" Huzza ! " brave Sheridan cries out ; 
" Advance ! Now make their columns shake. 
And put that traitorous host to rout ! " 

XLIII. 

Still booming on, the battery's breath 
Is belching forth its solemn sound. 

The lurid vapor wreathes its mist. 

And wraps the struggling warriors 'round. 



Sheridan and the Shenandoah. 53 

XLIV. 

The dying die, the wounded look 
To see their leader's flashing blade 

Once more give sign of victory won, 
Ere yet from them earth's glories fade. 

XLV. 

Now they retreat ! they fly ! they cower ! 
Turned are the tables ; more and more 

Brave Sheridan inspires his men. 
Yet one stroke more, one charge, one dash, 

And Shenandoah is free again. 

XLVI. 

The men dash on with clattering steeds, 
They fall anew on shattered rank ; 
They thrust, they hew, they front, they flank, 

They follow where their chieftain leads. 

XLVII. 

The war-wave high in fury dashed, 
The battle-cloud in thunder crashed ; 

For freedom were the close ranks riven, 
For truth the fiery bolts were driven. 



54 Home Melodies. 

XLVIII. 

The very air was rent with yells, 

With hissing shot and whizzing shells, 

With shifting batteries' clangor grim, 
With bursting bombs, with sabres' din. 

XLIX. 

Kind heaven ! look down ! 

Protect thine OAvn, 

That thus upon the ground are strewn, 
As sacrificial offerings red, 
As creatures to the slaughter led ! 

L. 

At length the work is done, 
The war-steed stays his course. 

The soldier rests ; the victory's won ! 
The battle incense clears away, 

The warrior lays his armor by. 

And, hush ! the dying die ! 

LI. 

Silence sank o'er the earth. 
The air was still. 



Sheridan and the Shenandoah. 55 

The murmuring waters gently waved 

As peacefully as ere before 
Those southern sliores they softly laved, 

LIl. 

The morning air breathed sweet perfume, 
Where many a stricken soldier lay. 

The wind sighed forth a requiem, 
As sank the sun at ebbing day. 

LIII. 

The blue, the gray had found repose 

Where war's harsh clamor ne'er is lieard ; 

They each had bravely fought and fell. 
No more will they to strife be stirred. 

LIV. 

All had their part performed like men. 

They heroes were, both blue and gray. 
Their praise will sound by tongue and pen, 

Their glory none will take away. 



56 Home Melodies. 



IN THE TWILIGHT 'NEATH THE TREES. 



Long and deep the shadows gather, 
Soft the night winds faintly sigh ; 

Low the pine trees gently murmur, 
Fast the notes of day sounds die 

In the twilight 'neath the trees. 

From above, the faint beams glimmer 
Of the now fast-fading day. 

And the pale stars, as through vapor, 
Peer with modest shrinking ray 

In the twilight 'neath the trees. 

Sung, with leafy branch enfolded. 
Gently swayed in downy nest. 

Waiting for the morning's brightness, 
Safe, the song-bird takes its rest, 

In the twilight 'neath the trees. 




• Low the jiine trees gently murmur 



Page 56, 



In the Twilight 'neath the Trees. 57 

So, when twilight hour approaches 

'Mid the shades that earth may cast, 
And the mingling damp and darkness 

Round us gather thick and fast, 
Then, at rest, safe on the strong arm 

Of the Great Eternal Friend, 
May the soul find peace and shelter. 

May He from all ill defend 
In the twilight 'neath the trees. 

Wayland, Aug. 16, 1890. 



58 Home Melodies. 



THE UNFORGOTTEN. 



No, not forgotten are they, friends of our early days, 
Who walked with us in childhood along life's pleasant 

ways ; 
Tho' distant far, the echo of each loved, familiar voice, 
By tender recollection they make the heart rejoice. 

No, not forgotten are they, but live in acts of love, 
Tho' long ago they passed from earth and found a home 

above ; 
Tho' dead, they yet are speaking, and the deeds they 

left behind, 
Live with a silent life of love that us to them still bind. 



In Memoriam. 59* 



IN MEMORIAM. 



[John P. Hudsou, a member of the 7th Mass. Light Battery, died in the U. S. 
service, at Sudbury, Mass., March 7th, 1804.] 

Slowly and sadly passed the years 

Of dismal war, of civil strife, 
And oft the nation sadly mourned 

The offerings rendered for its life. 

The sturdy patriots went forth 

From city, village, hamlet, farm ; 
Unsparing was the sacrifice 

To shield our native land from harm. 

And one there was who went away, 

A loved one fond, a patriot true. 
He gave a brother's sad farewell. 

And joined the band of boys in blue. 

Amid Virginia's swampy shades 

His camp-fire gleamed, as months sped by; 

Through battles stern he passed unscathed, 
But reached his home at length to die. 



60 Home Melodies. 

Through weeks of watching, sad we stood 
Beside the soldier's couch of pain, 

And soon we knew he never more 
Would hear his battery boom again. 

The spring time came with pleasant showers, 
The hills once more were decked with green, 

Earth brought again its early flowers, 
But that dear form no more was seen. 

It rests upon a sunlit spot, 

Where soft the day's departing ray 

In tender radiance is cast 

Ere it in twilight fades away. 

But not alone does nature cast 

Its loving, generous offerings down, 

A nation's gratitude goes out 
To those it fondly calls its own. 



ERRATA. 
On page 22, read Pokanoket for Pokonoket. 
On pages 11 and 13, read gambrel for gable. 
On page 26, read turjceys for turkies. 



"V, 



